Swimming with whale sharks has been on my bucket list for a few years. As a birthday present to myself, I planned a trip to Mexico. From June through September, the biggest fish in the sea congregate, feeding off the plankton-rich waters. I plan to plunge into the deep water and swim alongside these giant sea creatures.
Check that one complete. What’s next? Blue-footed birds in the Galapagos are intriguing.
My girlfriend, Lisa, decided to come along with me to the normally sun-baked sandy shores of Playa del Carmen. Lisa is an adventurous, extremely attractive single woman. A long weekend in Mexico? Hell yes!
The flight from Atlanta to Cancun was the rowdiest and drunkest first-class experience ever. I sat stoic and sober while everyone else was exhausting the poor flight attendant as she filled never-ending glasses with free booze.
The over-served man next to me bathed me in his gin and tonic, and I spent the flight feeling like a baby in a wet diaper, which was a harbinger of things to come.
When we landed, I fled the fuselage of drunkenness, only to discover I left my phone on the plane. After lengthy siestas by several airport officials, my phone was finally returned. The only sense of urgency in the ordeal was mine.
A friendly driver drove us to the resort in pelting rain-not hard rain-Biblical hurricane rain.
There was nothing for us to do on a rainy beach day but eat and drink, so we did, greedily. Lisa ignored the media reports about tainted alcohol, sipping “especial” cocktails made just for pretty women.
On the way to the restaurant, we walked by a Sponge Bob ice cream parlor. Then we noticed the larger-than-life Nija Turtles at war in a courtyard. Patrick the starfish was reposing at the pool situated outside our room.
Sadly none of the cornucopia of cartoon characters registered.
In hindsight, the clues where everywhere. The menus were chock full of chicken fingers and the cacophony of crying babies was ear splitting.
In our defense, we did notice the lack of other singles and even couples. The place just has tons of families not practicing birth control.
Hot guys? Hardly.
Being that there was little to do before we headed to the spa at 6:30, we napped, or at least tried to, but the sounds of tired tots protesting being pent up in their rooms surrounded us in a symphony of baby sorrow.
I went to the front desk to inform the hotel about the terrible mistake of two single women being placed in the “kid section” of the property.
Hard to tell which one of us was more dumbfounded. The lovely man informed me that we were at a “Nickelodeon property.”
After breath-sucking, side-splitting, laughter, I said to Lisa…
“The saddest part is we had to be told.”
Sometimes we overlook signs that are everywhere.
The silver lining?
Lisa is very fond of the chocolate sprinkles at the Sponge Bob ice cream bar. Me? even though I’ll be a year older tomorrow, I’m still just a kid at heart!
Guess I am in exactly the right place.